The x Torture x Chamber
by The Real Runey
Summary: Somehow, he got captured. Somehow, he can't escape. Somehow, he realizes that someone else in the same situation is just as twisted as he is. Feitan x OC. Rating will most likely go up in the future.
1. Chapter 1

It was impossible.

Absolutely unbelievable.

Out of all of them, he should be one of the least likely to get caught. One of the hardest to capture. And yet here he was, wrapped in chains, being dragged into a dark vehicle.

He wouldn't mind so much if this were the chain user's doing. After all, he'd taken out several of the Phantom Troupe members, which proved that he was at least somewhat capable. But it wasn't him. These bindings were not the chain user's.

The seeping wound on the back of his skull made his head throb. His grip on consciousness was slipping.

One of them noticed he was being dragged away. "Feitan...!" He couldn't tell which one the voice belonged to.

He tilted his aching head up to look in front of him, shadows dancing across his eyes, and the blurry faces of the Phantom Troupe watching helplessly in horror was the last thing he saw before the blackness swamped his vision.

* * *

Feitan woke in a room that looked quite like a jail cell. There was a single window. A door was on the wall opposite to the window; it was thick metal and had several locks. Probably Nen enforced. He observed that his hands were chained to the wall. A haughty smirk etched across his face. Did they really think these pathetic things could hold him? He yanked at the binds with all his strength.

Nothing happened, besides a hard, cold bite from the shackles. Surprisingly, it stung. He tried again.

Once again, nothing occurred, except for the rare wince that graced his features. Feitan immediately felt anger rise in him. Did he actually just WINCE? He shouldn't be so weak as to allow pain to affect him. But, he wasn't expecting this, he reminded himself. He could grant an excuse this time.

Feitan observed the chains. He had no idea what they were made of, but if he couldn't break them with his strength alone, they really had to be something. Wait...his bare strength alone?

That's right, these chains were doing something so that he couldn't use his Nen, most likely some sort of forced Zetsu. Feitan cursed under his breath. The chain user had something to do with this. Or did he? Some strange, spontaneous gut feeling told him that this wasn't the work of the chain user. But then...who had done this? And where even was he? Before he could think any longer, he sensed a presence coming toward him from outside the cell. The heavy metal door creaked as the locks began clicking and turning, and it opened slowly.

A burly man entered. His hair was dark brown and precise, and his navy eyes gifted a harsh glare. He wore an expensive-looking dark purple suit. Feitan could tell that he was a formidable opponent. He carried himself without leaving any openings, and his expression wore signs of many battles.

"So...you're the spider." The man scowled and spit on the ground.

Feitan chuckled. This man was nothing. "What if I am?"

This time, the man smiled. It was not a pleasant smile. "I'm going to cut to the chase. You have a lot of information that is valuable to me. You have a large bounty on your head. Many people desire to see you dead. Keeping you here harms the Troupe further. Obviously, we will be doing everything in our power to keep you here."

Feitan grinned to himself. This old geezer was formidable, yes, but if he were free, he'd kill him immediately.

"I know what you're thinking, spider." Feitan blinked. "You think that you're strong enough to break out. You think you could kill me easily." The man took a step closer. "But you're forgetting something. You're chained up. Those chains will prevent you from using aura of any kind, and will also drain all of your physical strength." The warden could barely contain his toothy grin.

Feitan scowled and clicked his tongue. "That certainly sounds unfortunate."

"If you cooperate, your time here will be much easier."

"Where are we? Who are you? And what makes you think you can get me to do anything you want?" Feitan smirked, the bloodlust in his eyes palpable.

But the man didn't flinch. Before Feitan knew what had happened, the man kicked him in the stomach, hard, effectively making the captive fall over and coil on the ground. Feitan coughed, feeling bile raising in his throat. He had forgotten what it was like to feel an attack without being able to protect himself with aura, and he was sapped of his other strength to boot. It hurt. A lot. "I suppose you're not going to answer my questions, then?" He forced out through gritted teeth.

Another spit on the floor. "Remember this, worm. I'm the one asking questions around here. You will suffer greatly during your time here." The man smiled another creepy smile, leering down at him. "Welcome to Hell, spider."

With that, the man walked to the door. As Feitan recovered on the ground, he shockingly noted a second pair of feet in the room. But that was impossible. If there were someone else in the room, he should've noticed it. He looked up at them and the only thing he glimpsed before they escaped out of sight was a head of teal hair.

* * *

 **So this will be more of a casual story for me to have fun with. This chapter probably isn't all that great since I really struggled with how to start this, but I'm hoping that the coming chapters will be a lot better. So bear with me for now, my glorious readers. Thank you for reading all the way to here, and drop a review. Y'know, if you want. No pressure. No pressure at all.**


	2. Chapter 2

It had been three days since anyone had come into Feitan's cell. Or close to it, for that matter. He could tell because of the small window that let in barely any light during the day. He had not received any food or water during that time, and though the hunger wasn't really bothering him, he knew his body would quickly be in bad shape if this continued. Even if someone had pushed food under the door, he wouldn't have been able to eat it, due to the damn chains that kept him to the wall.

It infuriated him. He should have been able to get out by now. Yet, he had thought of everything he could, and there didn't seem to be a possible escape route. And it was all because of these shackles. For the fourth time that day, he cursed and kicked at the floor, leaving a decent indent in it.

He'd tried kicking the wall behind him to destroy it, allowing him to pull the shackles out of the wall, but the area around the chains seemed to be protected or stronger somehow. He had thought about dislocating his hand and fingers to slip through, but the shackles were too tight.

As soon as Feitan felt the footsteps in the hallway, he focused on the group of people approaching and waited. Soon enough, the locks of the door began turning again, and the man from before entered behind a heavily armored guard. Feitan raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. "Is there a problem, officers?" He had to keep some semblance of calm, after all.

The man didn't seem to like his comment. He scowled. "I'd love to keep you here forever until you rot away to nothing, but we have to move you to another location. Either you come willingly, or we knock you out."

The armored figure began walking toward him. He considered trying to trip or attack the person, but without his Nen, and having not eaten for a while, he didn't have all of his strength, and he didn't know how thick or hard that armor was. The guard seemed to be pulling the chains that held the shackles out of the wall. Confidence rose in Feitan. As soon as the chains were free from the wall, he could attack and escape!

Sure enough, as soon as the guard had removed the chains from the wall, Feitan kicked their legs and tripped them before they had a chance to secure him. He bit back a curse; sure enough, the kick stung, but he was free! Wasting no time, he swung the chain at the astonished warden's head and sprinted toward the door.

Too late, though, he recognized another presence at the door. Had they been there the whole time?! Before he could even register what had happened, the person had knocked him over and grabbed his shackles. He tried to get up, but a kick to his jaw left him dizzy and immobilized.

"You knocked out the warden. Impressive." His captor said suddenly. The voice was feminine. He looked up at them in confusion.

The person standing over him was a girl who looked nothing like anyone who'd ever been in battle. She was scrawny and he couldn't tell from the ground, but she seemed like she was short, shorter than him. She wore a black t-shirt and black shorts, and he was barefoot. Her grey eyes were pointed at the warden, who was laying on the ground. She had teal hair, he noticed; surely she wasn't the figure from before?

But she had knocked him over and immobilized him. Feitan scowled. This weak-looking punk had defeated him? No way! She just got a lucky strike since he didn't notice her before, and also because he was weakened.

A yank on his shackles pulled him up abruptly. He gave the nastiest glare he could muster to the girl, but when she turned her head back to look at him, she didn't flinch. "Time for you to move." She yanked on his shackles again, hurting his wrists, and turned to walk out of the room, holding both chains in one hand behind her.

"I could easily escape from YOU." Feitan sneered as he reluctantly followed. He dug his heels into the ground, literally, in a sort of rebellion.

To his surprise, she turned around to look at him and just laughed, yanking him out of the ground. "No you can't. Even if you did, you'd never be able to leave as long as the warden is around."

Feitan rolled his eyes. "I just knocked out the warden. He can't stop me right now."

"True. He's not very strong himself. But he's the one keeping everyone chained here."

Feitan raised an eyebrow. "What?"

She stared at him and then laughed again. "Right. You can't see."

He blinked but said nothing more, thinking. What did she mean by he 'couldn't see?' There was probably some sort of Nen at work, and he couldn't see it because he didn't have the ability to use Gyo or any of his Nen.

"Are you sure you should be taking me away without your precious warden around?"

For a fraction of a second, he could've sworn he saw a dark, wrathful expression come to the girl's face. She then smiled at him again. "He instructed me to transport you." That was all she said before turning around. Feitan stared at the back of her head. That expression...no, he didn't imagine it.

Before long, the girl stopped at one of the endless identical doors. She pulled a keychain out of her pocket and unlocked the numerous locks on the door. This door didn't have quite as many locks as the other one, but there were still a lot. She pushed the door open with her foot and pulled him inside.

This room was smaller and it had no windows, shrouding it in darkness. The girl attached the ends of his chains to the floor, forcing him to sit down. He looked up and glared at her, murder in his gaze.

Once again, she was unaffected. She walked out, a hand on the door. "Someone will come here in a few hours to feed you. You will be force-fed if you do not comply. But I recommend complying, Feitan." With that, she closed the heavy door, and he could hear her locking it. It was pitch black.

So, she knew his name. It made sense, he supposed. After all, she was prison staff. That is, if this was a prison. He didn't know why, but he wondered what her name was.


	3. Chapter 3

**We get our first brief glimpse into the OCs mind after focusing on Feitan so much! Yay! I'm probably going to switch the focus of the story between the two characters during this story, but I may decide to just focus on one. I'm not sure. Sorry this chapter is shorter, guys. - ~ -"**

* * *

Just as the girl had told him, a few people slipped into Feitan's room after a few hours. To his relief, they came bearing food. They seemed to think he wasn't going to accept it, though, because they force-fed him the dry, tasteless morsels. Feitan wrinkled his nose, coughing at the nasty excuse for sustenance. After the blur of people had poured water down his throat, they were gone. He didn't miss them.

While his cell was dark and almost completely lightless, there was a window in his cell door that he had failed to notice before, possibly because it had been covered. He couldn't see very well outside of the window, as he was in a forced sitting position, and he didn't care to look out much, but his occasional glances told him that there were more moving presences in this hallway for some reason.

Feitan furrowed his brow and stretched his legs. The first day or two were a bit more bearable, but after sleeping and sitting in the same position, save for the short walk he was graced with during transportation, he was exceptionally sore and uncomfortable. His body was trained and hardened against all sorts of things, but this was mildly different from things he'd trained against. He had never thought he'd ever need to get used to shackles, after all. Oh, well. He figured he'd get used to it after a bit more.

* * *

"Ah, sir, you're awake."

The prison warden grunted from atop his cot and glared up at the voice. "What the hell happened?"

The others in the room backed up a bit after seeing the man's glare, but the owner of the voice stayed put. She was a girl with teal hair. "The prisoner we were moving today put up a bit of a fight. He managed to strike you. I disabled him immediately, sir."

The warden gave a sort if grunt and then almost nodded, as if to give some kind of encouragement, but he then scowled. "Why didn't you prevent the prisoner from striking me in the first place?"

"I did not expect him to overpower the guards, sir, but he is stronger than I expected. If I had not had control of my Nen he might have a chance of getting the better of me." She explained.

The warden seemed to accept this, albeit grudgingly, and he stood up, despite the nurses in the prison infirmary advising him against it. One glare from him silenced their meek objections. He strolled out of the room, the gray-eyed girl close behind him.

She found herself wondering about the new prisoner. It had been a while since she'd met anyone strong. Living in a prison was so boring.

"Sir...who is the new prisoner?"

Another scowl, if it were possible for him to scowl any further. "Feitan. He's a rare treat. He is a member of the Phantom Troupe. Of course, he will never escape here so he's not really one of the spiders anymore." At this, the warden's mouth twisted into something that wasn't right to call a smile, for it was too full of negative things, though it resembled one.

The girl blinked indifferently. She could care less about that. Not like she knew who the Phantom Troupe was, anyway. "Why is he here?"

"They knew he would be a hard one to break, so they sent him here."

"How did they capture him?"

The warden's frown returned, along with his anger. "Stop asking so many annoying questions! Don't forget who's in charge here, rat!"

The girl flinched, but not because of his words; because of the sharp jolt of Nen that shot through her. She stiffly bowed her head, using every ounce of her willpower to keep a straight face. "Apologies."

"Tch. Go on your shift, worm."

As the girl spun around and walked away, making sure her footsteps didn't give away her emotions, rage grew inside her. It would be so easy to strike and end it all. But she wouldn't. She couldn't. And she firmly repressed her seething anger, just like she always did.


	4. Chapter 4

**Once again, a really short chapter. Shorter than before. It may take a bit, but the chapters will eventually get longer, I promise. :P For now, though, there's really not much going on. We're about to get to the longer stuff, though.**

* * *

Feitan's next meal came about two days after the previous one, and the next one came about a day and a half after that. The guards that fed him seemed to be the same ones, but he couldn't really tell, nor did he care to. They all wore the same armor, and it shielded their faces. He quickly realized that while the meals (whatever they were made of) were few and disgusting, they were filling and nutritious. They didn't want him to die-not yet, at least.

During the agonizing lengths of time in which there was nothing to do, the Phantom Troupe member's preferred pastime had become listening to the conversations that happened in the hallway through the open window in his door. After all, it was the only thing to do. He had hoped to learn some things about where he was, but he had learned very little.

He'd realized that the hallway he was in seemed to be a very temporary spot for most of the prisoners. He heard cell doors open frequently and often heard the same sets of footsteps. If it was so temporary, though, why hadn't they moved him yet? Maybe because they knew he put up a fight, or maybe because they were still working out what to do with him.

The one thing he did figure out, that he deemed very important, was that there seemed to be two people of authority in the prison: the warden and the boss. At first, through the conversations, he had thought that the two were one in the same, but he soon realized that the guards talked about them as if they were two different people. The boss seemed to be the one who did the dirty work for the warden, and the boss seemed to be in charge of the guards. However, the warden apparently had absolute authority.

Feitan assumed that the beast of a man he had met already was the warden. He might have been the boss, but he didn't seem like the type who would follow orders from anybody but himself. He did wonder about the girl from before, though. Was she the boss? Surely not. She clearly had the skills for it, but she surely lacked authority. Still, though, it bothered him. He decided that he'd ask her if he saw her again.

* * *

The room was dark, except for the sharp glare of a single computer screen. A girl, the sole occupant of the room, was twirling around in a swivel chair. The computer was open to several articles. The girl seemed lost in thought, contemplating what she had just read as she lazily spun around. This was new. The girl was not used to reading about things, because nothing ever interested her. Plus, the warden would (literally) kill her if he caught her wasting time like this. If course, he wouldn't catch her, but she could never be too careful, After a bit, she picked up her feet and let the motion of the chair slowly cease.

"So...that's what you are, Phantom Troupe."


	5. Chapter 5

Feitan was shocked when the room he awakened in was different than the one he'd fallen asleep in. This room was tiny; he barely had any room to move-not that he could. He frowned. They must have waited until he'd fallen asleep to move him, knowing that he'd fight if they didn't. Still, he was angry at himself. His senses should be strong enough to wake him up if someone was transporting him while he was asleep. He came to the conclusion that they must have certainly drugged his food, and that's why he didn't wake up. Surely it wasn't because his condition was worsening, he told himself.

Feitan's second realization after waking up was that instead of a door like the other cells had, this cell just had bars and a gate. It wasn't anything even close to a wall, and he could immediately tell that there was no Nen protection on them whatsoever. These people must be really confident in their chains. He could smash those bars like they were nothing if he were freed. The bars allowed him to see outside of his area much better than before, but there wasn't anything interesting to look at-except for the cell across from his.

There was no one in it at the moment, but the plate of food in the corner told Feitan that it either recently was, or the tenant was just somewhere else. It was a lot larger than his, and unlike anything he'd seen so far, this cell actually had something to sleep on-even if it was just a threadbare cot. There was a desk in the corner with a notepad on it and a single pencil that had been worn down considerably. Other than that, Feitan noticed several deep gouges and scratches in the walls and floor, and dark red splotches that could only be blood were scattered around.

The soft pattering of footsteps brought his attention to the hallway. Feitan scowled; he knew those footsteps. Sure enough, before long, the girl who had bested him stepped into view. She looked like she was about to reach for the gate to the cell across the hall from him, but she spotted him out of the corner of her eye and turned to him. Feitan stared back. She looked confused and annoyed at the same time.

"Why are you here?" She finally said.

Feitan shrugged. "You tell me."

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I was not notified of this." Her voice carried an edge of irritation. "When did they move you?"

"I have no reason to tell you anything." Sure, he didn't really know when they moved him, but he wouldn't tell her that.

This got the reaction he'd hoped for out of her, as she took a step forward and glared down at him. "Oh, how wrong you are on that," she said through clenched teeth. She opened her mouth like she was going to say something else, but decided against it and sighed. Her face smoothed, but the anger remained in her eyes. Without saying another word, she started stomping off.

"Why does it matter so much?" Feitan asked in a monotone voice.

She whirled around and stomped a foot down, pointing at the cell across from his. He had to hold in a chuckle at this; she was acting like a pouty child. "Because that's _my_ room!" With that, she spun around again and marched off, the pattering of her feet much louder than they had been at her arrival.

Feitan would have laughed again, but he paused when he realized what she had just said. That cell was HER room? If she was a staff member at the prison, then why was she staying in a cell? Why would he be moved to a cell right across from where one of the workers slept? Granted, it was much nicer than any of the other areas he'd seen, and now that he noticed, the food on the plate in the corner actually looked like food, unlike whatever they'd been shoveling into his mouth. But, it was still pitiful. He realized then that the gate to the cell had no lock on it. Maybe it really was her room. This prison had horrible staff care.

* * *

"Warden! I demand to know why the Phantom Troupe member was moved right next to my room!" The girl yelled, clomping over to him.

He turned to her, rage in his navy eyes. He scowled and lifted his hand. Flinching, she braced for impact. The warden must have been feeling merciful today, however, because he dropped his hand without striking her. He bent down, glaring angrily at the girl as he towered over her.

"Do _not_ use that tone of voice against me, rat," he seethed before straightening back up.

The girl only nodded, her blank expression doing nothing to give away her emotions. She had gotten good at hiding her emotions. "Yes, sir." Her voice was meek.

"We moved him there because we need you to watch him," he explained, walking down the hall.

She also began walking, sticking behind him. "Watch him? But why?"

"Because as much as I hate to admit it, you're the only first-rate guard we have right now that could take him down if we needed. The other ones have been injured. The prisoners are getting rowdy again. Oh, yes, we'll need you to quiet them down, too." He paused, and she almost ran into him.

"What do you mean they're all injured? Surely the other guards weren't hurt by the prisoners."

"Are you calling me a liar?" The warden's face twisted. "Go back to your cell, before I make you."

The girl nodded, quickly turning around and heading back to her cell. To say that she was annoyed would be an understatement. She was infuriated! She was stuck with an annoying roommate-well, more like neighbor-for how long? The warden was ridiculously careful. Nothing would happen that would require her holding off the Spider. Nothing EVER happened. But oh, how she wished it would.


	6. Chapter 6

Even though the girl's face was smooth and calm, she didn't fool Feitan. Her footsteps upon returning were quick and forceful, and her hands were clenched tightly. Whatever she had heard had _not_ made her happy.

She almost-almost-slammed her door closed after she entered her room, walking straight to the desk in the corner and sitting down in the worn office chair. She opened one of the drawers-which he had failed to notice before-and pulled out a closed laptop. She put it down and opened it with what could nearly be considered force, and after a few seconds, she began typing furiously. Feitan didn't really care what she was doing. But days upon days of nothingness had piqued his curiosity on _anything_ that happened.

"What are you doing?" He was surprised with himself for speaking up, honestly. But he was bored. He wanted to have _some_ fun while he had the chance.

The clicking of the keyboard ceased momentarily, but soon began again without an answer from her. Feitan tried again. "What are you doing?" Still nothing. This time, she didn't stop typing.

Feitan smiled a small smile. He asked again. And again. And again. He knew what would happen. He knew human behavior. He knew she would break. She'd yell at him, telling him to stop, or she'd give in and tell him what she was doing. She'd groan in frustration, or go somewhere else so that she didn't have to deal with him anymore. He hoped she didn't leave, though. He had been in here too long without his toys, and he missed causing people to break and collapse, even if it was just a small reaction. A small reaction was better than none. It was only a matter of time.

...Or so he thought. Feitan eventually lost count of how many times he'd repeated the same dull question, and besides her initial pause, the girl hadn't moved an inch. She hadn't given any sort of reaction. She was _perfectly_ ignoring him. A scowl crawled onto Feitan's face. He repeated himself again and again and again and again and again. With each murmured question from the Spider, more anger bubbled up deep inside him. His eyebrows knit further and further; he glared more and more at the brightly colored back of her head, wishing he could bore holes in it. No one had _ever_ endured him this long, and he hated it. Red entered his vision. He was gritting his teeth now, forcing out the questions. He was determined to break her, no matter what.

No matter what...? Suddenly, Feitan came to his senses, and he paused. Why was this bothering him so much? He was normally calmer than this. His frown deepened. Staying in this prison under such horrible conditions seemed to actually be having effects on him. As if it had only just now come into effect, he realized how hungry he was, and his muscles began to ache. He sighed, his eyes closing. He hated this prison. He let himself calm down completely, listening to the silence.

The silence. What happened to the typing?

Feitan opened his eyes and looked ahead, locking eyes with the girl across the hall. She had stopped. Her chair was turned halfway, and she was looking at him with a furrowed brow. She looked...confused?

* * *

"What are you doing?" The question made her pause, but only for a second. She didn't know what the interests of the prisoner behind her were, but she couldn't care less.

"What are you doing?" She ignored him once again, keeping focused on her work.

When he asked a third time, she knew what he was up to. She smiled to herself. She had faced this trick many times. This guy may have thought he was clever, but to make her snap, he'd have to try harder than a simple repeated phrase. As his questions droned on, she let them become absorbed into the background noise. On and on he went, the tone of his voice unchanging. She had to hand it to him, he was certainly full of persistence.

And then something changed.

At first, she thought she had imagined the sudden, yet thin veil of anger that laced his words. But that veil grew slowly thicker and thicker until one could easily pick out his rage. She smiled and almost laughed. He'd tried to bother her, but he got himself fed up in the process! The smile on her face morphed into a look of annoyance when he began shouting. She sighed, attempting to shut him out again.

It would've been easy, if not for yet another change.

His shouts of anger had switched to another language. One that she'd never heard before. She turned around in her chair, unflinching at the sheer anger on his face but surprised nonetheless. Somehow, she got the impression that he was UNAWARE he had even switched languages or even that he was shouting. It sounded...odd. His eyes were on her, yet they were unfocused and did not meet her own. She couldn't help but stare.

And then just as suddenly as his fit had started, it ended. His face lost its wrath, and he sat calmly; he looked as if he were thinking about something. His unfocused eyes closed. Several long seconds passed.

He seemed to realize something then, opening his eyes. This time, his eyes met hers with focus. He looked as confused as she felt.

* * *

The two stared at each other. The girl did not turn back to her computer, and Feitan did not close his eyes to rest.

"What?" He broke the silence.

"...Nothing," the girl said after a pause. "What's YOUR problem?"

"Nothing," Feitan replied. As her grey eyes stared into his, he felt the urge to look away. So he did, looking everywhere that wasn't her face. This allowed him to scan her room another time. She looked at him quizzically as he did this.

"Why does a member of the prison staff have such crappy quarters?" He didn't really know why he bothered asking.

He expected an answer or a lack of one. He did not expect the girl to burst into laughter and almost fall out of her chair.

"P-Prison staff! HA!" She choked out through her giggles. Feitan just looked at her as if she'd sprouted another head.

After her cackling ceased, she looked at him with a soberingly serious face. "I'm not a member of the staff, Feitan. I'm a prisoner here, just like you."


	7. Chapter 7

**Sorry for the huge delay, guys! I'm out of WI-FI for the entire month because I've been binging way too much anime. So, I haven't been able to update. That's also why this chapter is so short. Sorry again.**

* * *

Feitan waited for her to begin laughing again. For her to say, 'Just kidding!' or 'You didn't really believe that, did you?'

But she didn't. She just kept studying him from across the hall.

"You've got to be kidding me." It was all he could think to say. Or maybe he didn't really think. In all honesty, he was having a hard time processing what she had just told him.

She sighed heavily, turning around in her chair to face her computer once again. "I don't have time for this..."

Feitan scowled. Turning her back on him? Like he was some insignificant nuisance? Who did she think she was?!

...Who was she, anyway?

"Who are you?" Feitan asked, his head having cleared a bit.

When she turned, and he saw her face, she had a different look on her face this time. Was she...surprised that he had asked for her name? If so, he was a little disappointed. How boring.

"Why should I tell you, Feitan?" No, he was mistaken. That wasn't shock in her eyes; it was challenge.

Feitan smirked. So be it. "You know who I am. But I don't know who you are. Don't you think that's unfair?"

She paused, like she was contemplating something. "In here, no one calls me by my name."

He blinked. "Oh? Then what do they call you?"

She chuckled softly. A grin that could only be described as haughty stretched up her face. "Boss."

"Huh?" No way. This girl _was_ the boss that he'd heard about? That didn't make any sense. "How come a prisoner waltzes around with free reign and the title of 'Boss?'"

Her grin grew to a smirk. "Who knows?"

Before he could continue their discourse, the girl suddenly jolted in her seat. She spasmed enough that she ended up on the floor, level with him. She grit her teeth, standing abruptly. The Spider watched her in confusion. What had just happened? Almost in a hurry, she shoved her laptop back into the drawer of her desk and half-heartedly pushed her chair back into place. She threw the door to her cell open, staring Feitan in the eyes one more time before she was gone.

Those eyes had held a dark emotion in them. Those eyes held a dangerous, wrathful gleam. He couldn't help but admire them.

* * *

By the time she had reached the warden, she had calmed herself. It wasn't like she minded being summoned and having something to do for once, but the warden's methods were annoying. He didn't have to sear her with Nen every time he needed her help. It wasn't like she was going to refuse to come. He did it anyway, of course. He did it to everyone.

"What do you need, sir?" Her eyes drifted to a squirming figure in her peripheral vision.

"Ah, there you are." He was in an agreeable mood. Good. "I need you to get information out of someone."

Her eyes widened. "You mean...?"

"Yes."

"I...see...Is he the one?" She gestured toward a person chained up in a chair next to the warden.

"Yes. Now, get to work."

The quivering figure jerked their head to look at the retreating figure of the warden. "W-Whatever you do, I'll never tell you anything!"

They jumped when a hand slammed down with force onto the back of the chair. "Oh, how wrong you are on that..." She giggled, holding the back of the chair and dragging it behind her though one of the hallways, not caring about the state of the chair legs or the floor. Her grey eyes seemed to glow and pierce through the darkness. A twisted smile graced her features.

"Don't worry. We're just gonna have some fun."

Her cackles rang throughout the halls.


	8. Chapter 8

When the girl returned with a big smile on her face, Feitan couldn't help but be a bit suspicious. She looked _too_ happy. For some reason unknown to him, trying to think of why she was happy left him with an odd feeling. Like she was happy for some _negative_ reason...but there was no evidence to support that, so he didn't know why he thought that.

Still...

"Why are you in such of a good mood all of the sudden?"

She looked at him through the door; as soon as she'd come back earlier, she'd plopped down on the floor. "None of your business." The stupidly happy grin on her face took away all of the bite of her statement.

Feitan rolled his eyes. "Whatever," he said dismissively.

For a period of time, Feitan looked at the girl, mainly because he didn't actually have anywhere else he could look. That was when he noticed the blood.

"You have blood on you," Feitan's said without thinking.

Instead of...well, whatever he was expecting-he didn't know quite what that was-she _giggled._ "I know. It's not mine."

Feitan blinked, staring at the girl again. Yes, he was shocked at her words and strange attitude-but was he weirded out by it? Of course not. This is Feitan we're talking about here. In fact, he found it quite amusing. For once, he decided to leave her be and not push her.

But only because she had climbed into her pathetic excuse for a bed and was about to fall asleep. And because he was tired, too.

* * *

The warden glared so furiously at the papers in front of him that some would have been surprised that they didn't catch fire.

"They're getting closer?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," the informant nervously squeaked, fearful of the warden's rage. "The traps, gates, and foliage have kept them at bay so far, b-but they keep pressing forward. Most people would have had to turn back by now, but..." Their speech cut off with a squeak as the warden slammed a fist down upon the desk.

"If they somehow manage to get up to the warning line..." He scowled at the thought.

The informant swallowed the lump in their throat. "Should we inform the boss, sir?"

The warden shook his head. "To inform her would be the same as admitting our defeat. The same as admitting that we have to take drastic measures. The same as admitting that we can't handle these intruders. No, do not tell her about this."

"Y-yes sir." The informant scurried out of the room as fast as they could. Did they agree with the warden's thoughts of invincibility? No. Neither did anyone else. But there was nothing anyone could do.

The warden observed the security video playing in front of him with cold eyes. No one had _ever_ gotten this far. Many had tried. A few had actually gotten a little bit towards them. But even though these people on the screen were still quite a ways away, they were the first to have gotten this far-and the speed at which they'd managed to get to this point was outrageous. Perhaps capturing one of the Phantom Troupe members had gotten him more than he bargained for.

Could she even defeat all of them at once? He was confident that she could take on a few, but _all_ of them?

No, no. He mustn't think like that. They'd never get close enough for her to _have_ to fight them.

"So the Phantom Troupe wants to get their member back, eh?" He leaned forward in his seat, resting his elbows on the desk. "They'll have to go through hell first."


	9. Chapter 9

"How? How is this possible?!"

The other people in the room flinched at the warden's shouts. He grit his teeth as he stared at the screen. "They just...disappeared?!"

No one affirmed this, but he already knew the answer. After all, he was watching it happen on the video. One second, the Phantom Troupe was walking along through the dense forest, and the next, they had vanished from sight.

"Then it was all fake?!" The warden pounded a fist on the table.

The door opened, drawing his attention away from the screen. "What's with all the shouting?"

He glared at the intruder's unflinching gray eyes. "Oh, it's just you." Despite his previous reluctance to tell her about this, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of worry within his rage, so he beckoned her over to the desk. "Come look at this."

She nodded and walked over, coming around to look at the video just as it replayed. "The Phantom Troupe...?" So that was what they were like...

As soon as the figures disappeared from the area, her eyes narrowed. "What the...?"

The warden was livid. The other people in the security room were amazed that she was so calm next to him-but she was the boss, after all.

"They were TRICKING us!" Unable to hold back his rage, the warden punched one of the TV screens, breaking the screen in the process.

A woman stepped forward after he had taken his rage out on the poor screen. "S-Sir, please calm down!"

She instantly regretted it. A few hushed gasps sounded through the room. Slowly, the warden turned toward her. The warden's glares were famous for making even the strongest person shiver. The look in his eyes was far worse than that. He pulled his now-bleeding fist away from the cracked screen.

"What did you just say?"

She took a step back. "I-I was just-"

Her voice was instantly cut off by a harsh sound-from her own throat. Staggering backward, the woman clutched at her neck, her wide eyes full of pleading. Alas, it was far too late for her to beg for mercy. Desperately trying to gulp air, she tripped on her own feet and fell to the floor, writhing around.

Her eyes started to bulge. Her thrashing grew less frequent. Her face turned blue. And then it all just stopped.

The girl stared down at the corpse with apathy, shaking her head. The warden really was too temperamental. Disposing of the woman had only wasted time. She looked up at the other people in the room, who were all trying to avoid looking at the body.

Now that the warden had relieved his anger, he had recovered. "You two. Clean this up." He pointed at the two people on the very edge of the group. They flinched and tensed up as soon as he called them out. Too scared to speak, they simply nodded.

"Now...what do you think about this?" He turned back to the newcomer.

She stood silently for a few seconds, seemingly pondering. "Well, I think it's safe to assume that those were not the real Phantom Troupe. They were likely Nen illusions." A pause. "But we clearly have footage of them getting caught in some of the traps and escaping. Simple illusions shouldn't be able to react to traps as if they really were trapped..."

She jerked her head up with a sudden thought. The warden furrowed his brow. "What is it?"

"What if...what if the reason these supposed illusions react so convincingly to the traps is because the real ones have _already_ been through the traps?"

Everyone's eyes widened at her statement. "So what you're saying is..." the warden began.

"What if the real Phantom Troupe has already been through the traps? The illusions were just a distraction..." She began pacing. "But if their distraction disappeared, that means they don't need it anymore-" she stopped in her tracks. "Wait." Her hands fell to her sides. "What if they're already here...?"

She quickly turned toward the door. "Feitan...!"


	10. Chapter 10

**Haha, I once again appear with an update that is far too short and very bad! Now then... *disappears for another 8 months***

* * *

Loud banging jolted Feitan from his sleep. His head whirled around as he tried to figure out where the sound originated from. A few guards raced past his cell, weapons in hand. Down the hall...? He strained against his chains, trying to see as much as he could, but to no avail. A few seconds later, screams joined the thuds. What on earth was going on?

Just as suddenly as the noise had begun, it ceased. The only sound that remained was a group of footsteps...that were headed toward his cell.

Feitan braced himself as well as he could.

Someone stopped in front of his cell. He regarded Shalnark with wide eyes.

"Whoa-Everyone! We found him!"

* * *

"I can't _believe_ you were never able to get yourself free. Everyone in there was totally second-rate!"

Feitan's mind wandered to the girl who knocked him down on his first escape attempt. "Shut up, Phinks."

"Gr...if you weren't so beat up, I'd kill you!" Phinks replied with a glare.

Feitan waited for questions as he was carried away by his teammates, but they never came. Perhaps they figured their questions could wait. They ran on in silence until all of the sudden, everyone stopped. Feitan looked up in confusion, then groaned when he saw their reason for halting. It was _her_.

"Why are _you_ here?" he snapped.

Shalnark looked between them, cocking her head. "Do you know her?"

She, however, did not say anything. Slowly, she turned around, drawing a line in the dirt behind her. She turned back around and stared Feitan dead in the eye.

"If you attempt to take him across this line," she gestured behind her, "he will die."

This earned a few chuckles. "Is that a threat, girlie?" Phinks taunted.

"No. It's a warning."

The laughter ceased.

Feitan scowled. "What do you mean by that, _boss?_ "

She perked up a bit. "Good! I see your stay hasn't rid you of your bite."

"Answer the question!" Machi snapped.

The girl rolled her eyes. "He will die if he crosses that line. You all see the chain, correct?"

Everyone nodded hesitantly. Wait, what chain?

"As soon as any prisoner crosses that line, they are suffocated. There's no way to get it off."

"Do you really think we'll believe that bull? Explain why you have one too, since you're trying to stop us!"

"Calm down, Phinks." Shalnark held him back.

Another eye roll. "I'm not trying to stop you, Phantom Troupe. I'm here to make a deal with you."

Feitan blinked. "...What?"

A grin graced her features.

"I want you to help me break out."


End file.
